


advanced theories of relationality (and other love stories)

by queenieofaces



Series: a wizard named B. Ham [2]
Category: New World Magischola (Live-Action Roleplaying Game)
Genre: (although that's less important this time), 8 pages of constellation metaphors and narrative theory, Asexual Character, Gen, I will always have infinite feelings about unconventional love stories, MORE DISASTER CHILDREN, NWM1, Too Many Feelings About Birds, so many cameos by random birds, this is a thinly disguised love letter to Dan Obeah so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8397118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenieofaces/pseuds/queenieofaces
Summary: Beatrisa Hamilton has never thought of herself as the hero of her own story--only a supporting character in others’, a sidekick, a loyal follower, a star to give shape to others in relation--and that makes telling this story difficult. (Can be read as a sequel to "chivalry for mindreaders" or on its own.  Warnings and spoilers in the notes.)





	

Beatrisa keeps the window to her bedroom open at night, the better to see the stars. Her mother scolds, her father lectures on warding, but still, the night sky calls.

She traces constellations--the ones she's learned from the astromancer who lives next door and the ones she creates herself--points of light connected and willed into meaning. Sometimes she imagines herself as part of a constellation, a dimmer star offsetting her parents’ brilliance, the third corner of a triad.

Beatrisa likes patterns, likes structure, likes understanding her place and purpose in the universe. She likes stories about knights because they have a clear code of behavior and ethics, a clear leader to follow, a clear quest to complete. She likes constellations because they give structure and meaning to the chaos of the night sky, turn points of light into something bigger than themselves.

When her father leaves, she searches for constellations composed of only two stars and comes up empty-handed.

***

Beatrisa Hamilton has never thought of herself as the hero of her own story--only a supporting character in others’, a sidekick, a loyal follower, a star to give shape to others in relation--and that makes telling this story difficult.

***

Bea is taking the long way round to class to avoid a classmate she knows is planning to prank her when she turns a corner and nearly collides with Vita. She opens her mouth to apologize, but then she _sees_ Vita.  Bea has seen Vita before, of course, has grown up hearing about the Radcliffe-Forsythes, as all mages from Destiny do, but she's never properly _seen_ her.

Vita is facing off against a bigger student, wand in one hand and cane in the other, service wyvern perched on her shoulder. Her opponent looms over her, fists clenched, but Vita doesn’t flinch, doesn't look away. She is small, she is young (they are _all_ small, Bea will realize in hindsight, and _all_ young), but she is, if not fearless, very good at approximating it.

 _Oh_ , Bea thinks. _Oh_.

***

The next time Bea has the chance, she quietly joins Vita’s table at lunch. Vita is sharp-tongued and quick witted, a sword disguised as a pen. The world has not been kind to her, may never be kind to her, but she is a strategist. She keeps track of every bit of ground she loses, then watches for complacency or a slip in attention and strikes back. Vita is the sea steadily wearing stones into sand, shards of glass into something blunted and beautiful.

Bea easily falls into orbit around her.  Bea is not the hero of this story, but Vita? Oh, Vita could be, and Bea wants to be there to see it.

***

Xel is a torch held aloft, a headlong charge down the path of greatest resistance, the solid certainty that the world could be a better place if we just made it so. Xel doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut and his head down, doesn't know when to quit.

Xel is in Williams Court with Bea, only a year ahead but sharp-eyed and perceptive. He sees the shoes full of slugs and pockets full of spiders, how she flinches away from certain students and refuses to meet the eyes of others. He sees one of Bea's tormentors have unexplained and out-of-character crying jags for a full year.

Xel calls Bea by her full name and teaches her basic warding. When the whispers increase in volume, Xel sits beside her at breakfast and mutters darkly about the latest injustice in the Magimundi and passes the butter without being asked.

***

Bea meets Saige through Vita, sometimes joins their study table in the library. Saige is brilliant and absolutely sure of herself. Saige is the Pole Star, and Bea orients herself by her light and constancy, easily falls into step behind her. Bea looks at Saige and sees who she could have been if she weren’t a mindreader, if she were a leader instead of a follower, if she were smarter and prettier and _better_.

Saige may not be the hero of this story, but she's a hero in Bea's eyes.

***

Every story needs a villain, so it was inevitable that Bastian would appear in Bea's life.

He puts her on edge from the moment they meet, from the moment he offers a handshake she can’t politely decline. He looks rich, sounds Unsoiled, and reminds her too much of another boy, grabbing her hair and laughing.

The feeling of skin on skin, her hand gripped by his, comes, as it always does, with a jumble of thoughts and emotions she doesn't want to know, to hear, to feel or acknowledge in any way. She fails to disguise her flinch, can't hide how sick and small brushing against his mind makes her feel. Bastian is polite about it, which somehow makes it worse.

Bastian needles at her. He doesn't _do_ anything, per se, but his presence is an irritant--alcohol in a scrape, fingernails on a blackboard, a splinter too small to see. He's polite, he doesn't hurt or mock her, but she knows, she _knows_. She knows he thinks she's lesser, she's magically inept, she's something to be pitied and coddled. She bristles and spits, righteous indignation and  immature pride, because she's never learned another way to be.

***

Bea's trying to finish a particularly difficult assignment in the library--it should have been done hours ago, but sleep deprivation makes her eyes gritty and her thoughts come in fits and spurts. In her haze, she doesn’t notice Bastian until he's leaning over her shoulder, pointing out the answer as though it's simple.

In the grand scheme of things, it's inconsequential--he's helping, saving her from another couple of hours banging her head on the table and not getting any closer to a satisfactory answer. But it's yet another reminder that he's smarter than her, that he is, in however small a way, right about her. She hates him and his smug face and his respectable family name and his condescending assistance and how effortlessly he sails through all his classes.

In the end, it isn't about Bastian--at least, not entirely. It's about the amalgamation of a thousand little moments--imposter syndrome and ugly remarks accidentally overheard, a chip on the shoulder and a two-star constellation, teary frustration and children being unkind. It's about being out of her depth and adrift and small and young.

In the end, it isn't about Bastian, but he's standing right there.

She grabs his hand and tries to teach him a lesson in the only way she knows how. It is foolish and spiteful, but she has never learned another way to be.

***

Bea has migraines for three days and jumps at things that no one else can see for three weeks, but her grades mysteriously improve for a full month.

Bastian treats her as he always has. If anyone notices that Bea is less overtly hostile toward him, they don't mention it.

Years later, Bastian tells Blake Hayes that Bea's a talented mindreader and she tries not to feel small and sick.

***

In a different universe, Bea asks for Du Bois, not Dan Obeah. In a different universe, the idea of self-transformation matters less to her than Du Bois’s unwavering certainty in the right course of action. In a different universe, she doesn’t have three people in Dan Obeah towards whom she naturally gravitates.  In a different universe, Bea and Fido become friends instead of Bea and Monty, instead of Bea and, well.

Bea belongs in Dan Obeah (perhaps not always for the reasons she thinks), but she could belong in Du Bois just as easily.

In this universe, Dan Obeah takes Persie and then Monty, and Bea's heart sinks--surely they won't want a third astromancer this year. The Chancellor calls her name and she nearly trips over her own feet on the way up the stairs, already steeling herself for disappointment.

“Dan Obeah!”

The wall of sound makes her stumble, lightheaded and giddy with relief. As she receives her tie, she wonders if this is what being a hero feels like.

***

Xel picks her token at the Dan Obeah initiation. Maybe it is fate or maybe happenstance or maybe he cheated.

In any case, Bea easily falls into step behind him.

***

For better or worse, mindreading is inextricable from Bea’s sense of self. She soaks up bits and pieces from the people around her, values and habits, nervous ticks and moral codes, the things she consciously imitates and the ones she unconsciously mirrors. She takes Saige’s conviction, her moral compass, her belief in rules and fairness. She takes Vita’s tenacity, her poise, her careful wariness tempered by faith in her friends and allies. She takes Xel’s idealism, his willingness to speak out against injustice, his limp (unintentionally).

Bea admires Andrew's warmth, Jos’s drive, Nico’s determination, Jayden’s critical eye. She appreciates Nellwyn’s enthusiasm, Horus and Sam’s leadership, Alula’s kindness. She can see the good qualities in all of her housemates--even the pranksters, even the rule-breakers, even the troublemakers--and she orients herself by their presence, understands herself in relation to them. She is part of something bigger than herself, a point of light connected to others and willed into meaning.

Dan Obeah is not the hero of this story, but maybe it should be.

***

Bea follows the judges of the Disciplinary Tribunal, her house presidents, her mentor. Bea follows Monty and Persie, takes her place as the third corner of their triad. Bea follows Vita and Saige, scroll tightly clutched in their hands as they consult in hushed voices. Bea follows the Registrar, bringing Xel and Jos with her, and then follows the Conclave into danger and back out again. Bea follows her house into the sorting ceremony, proud and scared and ready to protect the first-years.

Bea follows, because she has never learned another way to be.

***

Bea picks Ariadne’s token at the Dan Obeah initiation, and introduces herself to her new mentee, awkward and anxious.  She has never been a leader, always a follower, but now she has someone looking up to her.

She looks around their common room, at the flurry of activity as her housemates chalk wards onto each other's robes and talk through defensive measures, at the strength and unity of her house, and thinks that even if she'll never be a leader, maybe she can still be _something_.

Ariadne falls into step behind her.

***

Bea stands in the summoning circle, desperately trying to stop the ritual that may or may not bring down Virginia Isle. Saige and Vita, half the Conclave, most of Dan Obeah, and an assortment of other students she doesn’t know stand with her.

She is not the hero of this story--she's a minor player, another body and voice to raise in opposition, but their power comes from their numbers, not their magic or their heritage or their wealth. They are connected by their shared intentions, a series of disparate points of light willed into meaning.

***

Jayden is shadow and ink, the bite of the winter wind, vigilance and skepticism. Jayden is Bea's partner in Divination, joining her in squinting at a pendulum and trying to interpret its erratic wiggling.

Jayden is also, apparently, a lycan.

Bea is not a hero, not a leader, not a prophet, but she can be a messenger. She spreads the information quickly through her network, soft and urgent words exchanged in corridors, in stairwells, a plea to keep an eye on Jayden, to protect them, to make sure they aren't alone.

Dan Obeah stands for Jayden when they are outed at lunch, a wall of bodies between them and anyone who might wish them harm, a show of solidarity.

There are no heroes in this story--only a house trying to protect their own. None of them are fearless, but they are very good at approximating it.

***

Vita shouts down Professor Wittgenstein. She is furious and eloquent, cutting and forceful, chin raised and voice strong. Wittgenstein spits acid and scorn, but Vita bites back and holds her own. She is not fearless, but she is _brave_.

 _Oh_ , Bea thinks.  _Oh_.

***

Bea huddles over a strand of hair with Monty and Persie and Vita.  What they are doing is dangerous and almost certainly against the school rules, but it feels _right_.  Persie is sarcastic and Monty reveals tarot cards solemnly and Vita is utterly focused and Bea fiercely and unabashedly _belongs_.

***

Bea follows Kathryn Dwyer to the ground, and then follows her into a vision of torture and confinement. Bea follows Jos to Arthur, and then follows Arthur through a fragmented memory. Bea follows Elliot Cayne into a memory she's kept secret, and then follows a younger Persie remolding mundanes’ minds.

For better or worse, mindreading is inextricable from Bea’s sense of self. She soaks up bits and pieces from the people around her, accidentally takes on Bastian’s magical talent (briefly), the set of Vita’s jaw (permanently), Saige’s moral compass (as best she can), Xel’s limp (sporadically). She's only ever understood herself in relation to others--she is a follower, an assistant, a sword for someone else to wield.  She unconsciously makes space beside her for Persie and Monty, trails after Jos, snaps to attention when the Registrar speaks.

She cannot understand herself separate from those who surround her.  She is not anyone without other people.

She doesn't want any of _this_ to be part of who she is.  But she's never learned another way to be.

***

Bea sprints away from the makeshift courtroom, and Vita follows.

***

Milo comes to her for assistance, relies on her to resolve an unpleasant situation.

Raf asks for her approval, calls her by her full name, the vowels rounded instead of nasal.

Nico falls into step behind her, asks to assist, awaits her orders.

Vita trusts her judgment, shares sensitive information with her, believes her.

Bea does not think of herself as a hero, a leader, anyone special, but apparently others do.

***

Bastian extends a hand to Bea at the formal, and Bea only hesitates for a moment before taking it. Brushing against Bastian’s mind still makes her feel small and sick, but she spreads the information he gives her quickly through her network, in whispers and warnings and exhortations for vigilance.

Bastian is not the hero of this story, but maybe he isn't the villain either.

***

Beatrisa Hamilton does not think of herself as a hero, a leader, anyone special.  She is not fire or ice, not shadow or light, not the sea or a mountain or an endless plain stretching to the horizon--she is nothing as grand as that.  She cannot tell a story about herself--she wouldn’t know where to begin.

So let us tell a story for her.

This is the story of a child unknowingly wearing her heart on her sleeve, caring too much and too freely.  This is the story of a young woman who has barely experienced romantic attraction falling in love again and again and again, a thousand different ways, a thousand different times.  This is the story of someone who hasn’t learned to protect her heart, who hasn’t learned that fire will burn and ice will freeze and human beings weren’t made to perch on pedestals.

This is a love story.

***

In the end, they stand together, in victory rather than fear.  In the end, Bea stands with them, one among many.  In the end, they are a group of young people fighting, studying, rejoicing, making mistakes and making amends, growing and transforming, together. In the end, they are together.

They look nothing like stars. There are other ways to make meaning.

Bea is not the hero of this story, but maybe she doesn’t need to be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to be academic, you could say "chivalry for mindreaders" is about Bea's internal experience and this one is about Bea relationally.
> 
> In truth, I just have a lot of emotions about Dan Obeah (partially because #birdhousebesthouse and partially because OOC everyone is lovely and supportive and I am forever crying about the house).
> 
> I apologize if I have mischaracterized your character--I continue to blame it on Bea being a profoundly unreliable narrator.
> 
> Necessary warnings: very brief mention of torture because BOY THAT SURE HAPPENED. Bea's self-image is still really warped, and, dang, she does not have positive things to say about Bastian.
> 
> Spoilers: Pretty nonexistent--some very minor backstory stuff that has leaked at this point and then NWM1-specific spoilers which probably everyone knows.


End file.
